


Darling, You Had Me at Hello

by JamieS1025



Series: The Devil Wears Prada [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, BoldYuuri, Boss/Employee Relationship, Dating, Fluff, Inspired by The Devil Wears Prada, M/M, New Relationship, Phichit Chulanont Is a Good Friend, Spring Gala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 14:45:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15798696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieS1025/pseuds/JamieS1025
Summary: “Oh god, what have I done?” Yuuri mutters mostly to himself, but Viktor merely grins.“You have done many things. I am very impressed.”





	Darling, You Had Me at Hello

**Author's Note:**

> Hi :]  
> I am trying to update more.  
> No promises.

Yuuri wakes up to the distinct feeling of something being wrong. His muscles are sore and his feet tender from a night of continuous dancing, but the overwhelming pounding in his head takes precedence. Opening his eyes is more of a struggle due to the natural light assaulting him, but he presses on to be met with the beautiful morning New York Skyline.

He stares out the window, blinking sleepily. The sight is truly breathtaking. Yuuri wonders why he never appreciated it before.

“Are you awake?”

He hums. Rubbing the side of his cheek on the soft, satin pillow. “Yeah,” he breathes.

A low chuckle comes from his bedmate and suddenly Yuuri finds long arms wrapping around him, a kiss pressed to his left temple. The movement has Yuuri smiling, pushing his face further into the soft pillow and breathing in the deep smell of sandalwood, cinnamon, and Viktor.

Viktor?

Yuuri’s eyes snap open. A sudden wave of nausea hits him for all the wrong reasons. He has never appreciated the New York skyline because he has never seen it from his tiny hole of an apartment. He does not own satin sheets and he most certainly _does not_ own a Viktor.

“Yuuri?” Viktor asks, feeling the tenseness throughout his partner's body. Slowly, Yuuri rolls over onto his back and meets the eyes of his boss, confirming that he was indeed, in his bed. Naked. And suddenly the events of the night come rushing back to him in a crashing wave.

“Oh god, what have I done?” Yuuri mutters mostly to himself, but Viktor merely grins.

“You have done many things. I am very impressed.”

The brunette glares. He struggles to crawl out of Viktor’s arms to get dress and limit the amount of shame he must go through in one day. Sleeping with the boss is already at the top of his list and the thought makes Yuuri want to gag.

Viktor, on the other hand, doesn’t let go and instead pulls Yuuri back to him for a proper morning kiss. Yuuri resists with what strength his has left, and since he meets the kiss halfway, isn’t much.

“Where do you think you are going?” The silver-haired man whispers, hair loose around them. Yuuri reaches up to run a hand through the messy locks.

“Do you know how wrong it is that I just slept with my boss?”

Viktor smiles. “It doesn’t feel very wrong to me.”

Yuuri laughs. “Probably because you _are_ the boss.”

He wants to be mad. He wants to struggle his way out of the bed, dress, and leave before things go any further. He wants to forget about _Runway_ and Viktor. Pack up his belongings and go out to find the real job he was meant to take after college. He wants his anxiety to _shut up_ for once. Because truthfully, Yuuri doesn’t actually want any of that.

The previous night had been one of the best nights of his life but waking up to Viktor looking at him like he is the world blows it completely out of the water. For once, he just feels happy.

Which is what he tells himself when he reaches up to pull Viktor back into a filthy kiss.

Neither of them leaves the bedroom for quite a while.

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Yuuri finds himself sitting at Viktor’s breakfast bar in his old red dress shirt and a fresh cup of coffee steaming in his hand. He is watching Viktor attempt to cook eggs on the stove, a pair of pajama pants hanging low of his hips. The sight brings a smile to his lips and he hides it behind a sip of coffee.

“You know, I don’t usually do this,” Viktor comments, glancing over his shoulder.

Yuuri leans his elbows on the counter. “Don’t usually do what? Burn eggs?”

Viktor frowns and returns his attention to his food, which in fact, is burned. With a heavy sigh, he turns off the stove and shoves the burnt pan onto a cool burner. “I don’t think I’ve ever even used the stove here, to be honest,” Viktor informs, grabbing his own coffee and leaning against the opposite counter. Yuuri is still smiling at him. “What I actually meant is that I don’t usually bring people home, especially my pretty assistants.” With a slight tilt of his head, Viktor winks. A few long strands of silver hair cascade over his shoulder to shadow his eyesight.

A blush spreads over Yuuri’s cheekbones, eyes dropping to stare at the coffee cup in his hands. “Well, I don’t usually go home with anyone, like ever, so I guess we’re even.”  

Viktor nods and takes a sip of his own coffee. The kitchen settles into an odd silence. He observes his assistant quietly, trying to decipher a way to proceed with their conversation. Yuuri beats him to it. “I don’t regret it.”

Surprised but thrilled Viktor responds immediately. “Neither do I.”

“So… what now?”

What now. That is an excellent question. A question that doesn’t really matter to Viktor. “What do you want to do, Yuuri? This probably affects you more than it does me.”

The younger man sets his coffee down on the counter to tiredly rub at his eyes. What does he want to do? Yuuri doesn’t even know where to being. How does one just start dating their boss? Were they even dating? Yuuri isn’t sure when his life became so confusing.

“I have an idea,” Viktor announces and Yuuri is glad for the distraction. Suddenly his anxiety seems to be rearing its ugly head again. “Why don’t we just slow down, step by step. We don’t have to tell anyone anything if you don’t want too. Not right away.”

“You… you would be okay with that?”

Viktor smiles. “Of course, _zolotse.”_

Yuuri’s nose scrunches in the most adorable way. “What does that mean?”

Setting his coffee on the counter, Viktor rounds the counter to stand next to his lover. He tilts the shorter man’s chin upward, gently pressing a kiss to his awaiting lips. He leans back mere inches to brush black strands from Yuuri’s watchful eyes. “It’s Russian. Something along the lines of my gold.”

Yuuri gives him a questioning look.

“I only strive for the absolute best,” Viktor informs, lips pressing a silent promise into Yuuri’s forehead. Yuuri was better than a thousand gold medals or coins, but Viktor wasn’t ready to say that out loud yet. “Now come, let's get dressed and go out for breakfast. I am definitely not a cook.”

Lethal fingers attack Yuuri’s sensitive sides in the hopes of hearing his beautiful laugh again, but the raven-haired man dodges the attack and takes off down the hall. Viktor stalks after his prey and as soon as he enters the bedroom, he is attacked by Yuuri throwing an arm around his neck and yanking him back down into a heated kiss.

Viktor is sure at that moment that Yuuri may be the death of him.

 

* * *

 

After they showered and dressed, Viktor led them downstairs to his personal vehicle. He confided in Yuuri that although he did not drive himself much, he still enjoyed the freedom of what a car could offer. The aforementioned vehicle probably could have paid Yuuri’s rent for the entire year. He ignored the custom leather seats and sleek modern interior as he slid into the passenger’s seat and pulled out his phone. He wasn’t surprised to find several text messages and missed calls, most from his best friend.

A blush spreads across his cheeks as he types out a quick answer of ‘ _shut up’_ , ‘ _yes’_ , and ‘ _I’ll be home later’_. He doesn’t wait for Phichit’s response before he clicks to open the photo attachment. The person in the photo Yuuri barely recognizes as himself. All confidence and a smitten smile, Yuuri stands on the staircase with one hand resting on his cocked out hip. The full body photo catches both the light glinting off his designer stilettos and Viktor’s high cheekbones, who happens to be looking up at him. Yuuri clicks the link attached to the photo.

**Spring Gala 2018: Nikiforov with Mystery Date**

by Corinne Heller| Sun., Mar. 12, 2018 07:40AM

Image

This year’s celebration of fashion and design seemed to spark interest in a variety of celebrities attending the NY Spring Gala. The 29-year-old fashion editor, Viktor Nikiforov, was seen with an unexpected guest during the event. Reports say…

Yuuri closed the article and leaned back in his seat, exhaling a light sigh. So much for discreet. Despite the insistent buzzing from Phichit’s various texts, Yuuri repockets his phone in his borrowed jeans. Luckily Viktor had an older pair that didn’t drown him.

“I can hear you thinking over there. What’s wrong?” Viktor asks but does not take his eyes off the road. Yuuri turns his head to watch the buildings pass as a distraction.

“Phichit, my best friend, sent me a photo of last night. Apparently, I have been labeled your “mystery date”. I think that might put a little wrench in our discreet plan.”

Viktor pulls the car into a cute little breakfast place and parks. Once the vehicle is stationary, he turns slightly in his seat to face Yuuri. “Unfortunately that will be a major problem with dating me, Yuuri. People are always watching what I do and critiquing how I did it. That will never change, so perhaps you should consider that before going any further with me.”

“And what? I’ll just go back to my job as your assistant and we will pretend nothing happened?”

Viktor’s heart dropped. “If that’s what you want.”

Letting his head fall back to the headrest, Yuuri exhaled a breath slowly. He tilted his head in Viktor’s direction and reached out to grasp one of the older man’s hands. “I don’t,” he reaffirmed with a squeeze of his hand, “I just have pretty bad anxiety issues, and this is all very new to me.”

Bringing the hand in his grasp to his lips, Viktor pressed a gentle kiss along his knuckles. “We can go as slow as you like, Yuuri.”

He smiles at the intimate gesture. “So, if I wanted to date you, you would agree?”

“Yes.” The answer is immediate. No hesitation or restraint. Yuuri laughs lightly.

“Exclusively?”

“I feel like I should be insulted by that.” Viktor frowns.

“You can never be too clear, Viktor. Communication is key.”

The older man huffs but nods an affirmative. “Exclusively. And I don’t care who knows, but I want to tell Chris. He’s my oldest friend and if we decide to keep this quiet, I at least want him to know.”

“Alright, but we should probably tell Yura too.”

“If he doesn’t already know.”

Yuuri blushes. They have been pretty smitten around the office. At this point, everyone might know something is brewing.

“Let’s just… let things happen? I don’t know. Hiding seems wrong, but flaunting doesn’t seem very appropriate either. Technically, you are _still_ my boss,” Yuuri says, face scrunching like he has a bad taste in his mouth, “Is this going to affect my position?”

Viktor smiles and Yuuri notices that it almost appears heart-shaped. “No, Yuuri. I will make sure your job is secure,” he pauses, lifting his free hand to tap at his jaw. “Although you could always become my live-in boyfriend. Clean and cook all my meals?”

He receives a distinctive glare in return and Yuuri wrenches his hand back. “Fat chance, Nikiforov. I will never be a trophy husband.”

Yuuri pushes open the car door and slides out. He may or may not have added the middle finger as he left. Viktor can only laugh in response. He too exits the car and meets his new boyfriend at the front. Together, hands intertwined, they entered the small family owned café.

**Author's Note:**

> It took me forever to get those text messages in there. lmao  
> Then I noticed one still had the fake message logo, but I am NOT trying to change it at this point.


End file.
